Everybody Talks
by ColorCoated
Summary: Sitting in an empty motel room with Remy, Rogue muses about their relationship, or lack thereof. One Shot.


This reads like it's a part of a bigger story, but it's just a one shot. It got stuck in my head while I was trying to work through writer's block for another story, so I just had to write it

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**Everybody Talks**

Rogue sighed deeply, feeling completely sated. She stretched her arms out far above her head, and groaned as her tired limbs protested. She wiggled her hips experimentally, feeling a sort of satisfying soreness there.

Rolling onto her left side, she gazed at the man sitting tall next to her, his well-muscled, shirtless body resting against the wooden headboard, looking just as satisfied as she. One hand rested on his lap, barely concealed by a thin sheet, smoke trailing from a lit cigarette that rested between his index and middle finger. Lazily, he lifted the cigarette to his lips and took a drag.

She watched as her companion's head turned towards her, auburn hair hanging haphazardly around his face. It hung just slightly passed his chin now. Just long enough so that he could pull it into a small ponytail at the nape of neck, a small inch and a half ponytail of his glorious, thick hair. She had mentioned to him once that she had like him growing his hair out, and once it hit that spot below his chin, he kept it there.

He liked giving her something she could run her long, delicate fingers through. He liked that one of the first things she always did when they got together was pull the small tie away from his neck and run her hands up to the roots of his hair.

As he lifted the cigarette to his lips for another drag, he looked around the cheap motel room. The ceiling lamp was obviously weak, and it kept the room bathed in a kind of low-light, seedy, glow. The carpet hadn't looked that clean, but the bed did, which was really all that mattered. The large wooden headboard had been nice too, as it gave the woman next to him something to hold on to.

"Mmm," She yawned, pulling herself into a semi-reclining position, as she also pulled herself up against the headboard. "Sorry, Ah didn't mean tah fall asleep on yah."

She had apparently been sleeping in his pale pink $600 dress shirt. The shirt was rumpled on her body, and buttoned dangerously low, leaving the top four buttons undone. It smelled like him. It was delicious.

He smirked, "'S all right, Chere. Remy jus figure he wore yo' out." He had good reason to think so; six times was a record for her. He may have been just a little bit proud of himself.

Her grin matched his, "Ah guess yah might have reason tah think that." She reached an arm towards him and slowly pulled the cigarette away from his lips. Sitting up fully now, her position matching his own, she leaned towards him and pressed a quick, wet, open-mouthed kiss against his lips. Then she brought the cigarette up to her lips, and took a deep tasty drag.

He watched with hunger in his eyes, "Got my nicotine cravings again, Chere?"

Another drag, "Every time, Remy, every time." Pursing her lips, she expertly exhaled the smoke.

His eyes darkened, and his head titled slightly as he watched her. "Dieu, yo' know how hot yo' look when you've got my smokes?" The evidence of his words was more than apparent, seeing as the only thing covering his midsection was a thin white sheet.

She gave a sort of a happy sigh and small chuckle, "Ah know that it's so bad for meh, but it always makes yah look at meh in _that_ way, so I just can't help mahself."

"So unbelievably hot." His voice was a whisper as his eyes stayed on the cigarette at her lips. He couldn't seem to pull his eyes away.

As she held the cigarette out to him, he quickly grabbed it, not able to bring his mouth to where her lips had been fast enough. He took a drag.

She looked around at the crappy ceiling lamp, "It's not the best place we've been, is it?"

He chuckled, still smoking, "'S not de worst."

She cocked an eyebrow, "And what are yah smilin' about?"

He grinned, "Jus' tinkin' bout dat time in de alley behind dat night club a couple o' weeks ago."

"Ha." She tried to give him a flat look, but the upward curving of her lips ruined it, "Ah had scrapes on mah back for weeks."

His smile grew as the memory of it replayed in his mind. Not able to make it back to his apartment, he had literally ripped the tight black top off of Rogue's body. The surprised look on her face and the look of her heated skin, as she stood half naked in front of him in the alley, with only a lace bra and black mini skirt on? It was too much. Quickly, his hand was up her skirt and he tore her panties off too. His hands had slid down to her thighs, and, gripping them tightly, he had lifted her off the ground and wrapped them around his waist. Forgetting to be gentle, he had slammed her lithe body against the brick behind them and had his way with her, quickly bringing them both to completion. "If I remember correctly, yo had been begging me t' take yo. I was jus doin' de right ting and givin' yo what yo wanted." He snubbed the butt of his cigg into the ash try on the night stand next to him.

She shivered, unable to tease him back as she knew his words were true, "It was all that dancing. Who knew yah could move your body like that?"

He was still grinning, "Yo' should have had some idea." He winked, "Yo've seen moi move like dat plenty o' other times."

Unable to help herself, she giggled.

"Dat was a good night, though." He was still thinking about it.

She grinned, "It sure was." She leaned over his body, her covered chest bumping against his, and reached for the red and white package on his night stand. Expertly sliding out another cigarette, she brought the Marlboro up to her lips.

Wordlessly, he placed his finger at the tip, and watched as she inhaled when he gave her the light.

"Man, Remy," She blew smoke in the opposite direction, "It is unbelievable how much yah crave these things, how much yah want them."

"Not half as much as I crave yo', Chere."

She smiled. It was a romantic thing for him to say, even if it was true.

He took the cigarette from her and took a long drag, before passing it back and watching intently as she placed it between her red lips.

"Yah know, Remy," She looked straight at him, "These things are terrible for yah."

He nodded distractedly, much too focused on the way her lips pursed slightly as she exhaled smoke. He wanted to kiss those lips until they bruised. "I know, Chere."

"I think yah should quit." She took a couple more drags as she watched the surprise show on his face.

That was unexpected. He took the offered cigarette from her, and looked at her curiously, "Yo' tink so?"

She nodded, "Ah really do."

"Hm," He looked Unsurely at the Marlboro in his hand, and then snuffed it out in the ash try, "I guess I could try."

She smiled, "Ah'd appreciate it."

He smiled at her, eyes drawn to his dress shirt that she was wearing. He focused on the deep v there, left from so many open buttons, making her cleavage very visible.

She looked around for her phone or a clock, "What time is it?"

He shook his head, "Don' worry bout it. We still got plenty o' time."

She grinned to herself, it was easy to lose track of time when you've spent last hour beneath Remy LeBeau.

"Do yo' have to go back tonight?" He knew she wouldn't stay, but couldn't seem to stop himself for asking anyway.

"Yah know Ah do."

"Je sais," he nodded, "Speaking o' which, how's dat boyfriend o' yours anyway?"

"Gus?" She shrugged, "He's all right, Ah guess. Yah know meh, Ah like having someone tah come home tah."

Remy gave her a knowing look, and couldn't help himself from smirking slightly, "De sex hasn't got any better has it?"

She groaned and rolled her eyes, slouching down against the headboard, "Not at all."

He nudged her good-naturedly with his elbow, "Why don't yo' just tell him dat yo' like it rough?"

She sighed, "Ah tried. He just doesn't seem tah get it."

Remy trailed one fingertip down her arm, "He's too gentle wit yo'? If I recall, yo' like dat too, sometimes."

He could recall a few token times when it had been more slow and languid, as opposed to most of the time when he just pounded into her with abandon. It's not like he could help it, she'd purse those red little lips and would groan "harder, harder" over and over. It was the gentlemanly thing of him to do, to agree to her requests; not to mention the fact that rough sex was obscenely hot and her body seemed to match his like a depraved puzzle piece.

"Yeah, with yah!" She exclaimed giving him a heated glance, "Only with yah." She gave a sort of happy sigh, "Remy, only yah know how tah play my body like that." Then she shivered at the memory.

He grinned, using a hand to tuck a chunk of white hair behind her ear, "An' how does Gus fell bout yo' cheating on him, Chere?"

She gave a humorless laugh and shook her head, "Yah know, it's funny, Remy. Ah know it's wrong and Ah shouldn't be doing it, but most of the time, Ah feel like Ah'm cheating on yah with him, not the other way around."

He nodded, "I do hate de idea of his hands on yo'."

She nodded, "Ah know."

He continued, "An' we have been at dis fo' a long time."

She smiled softly, "Almost three years now."

He nodded again.

"Well, what about Ginny? How does she fell about us sleeping together?"

He gave a half shrug, "Never told her we'd be exclusive."

"But she's not sleeping with anyone else."

"So?" He countered her statement with a strange look.

She sighed, "Remy, it's not just about the sex -"

"Mind blowing," He interjected.

She couldn't fight the little smirk. She reached over and absently placed her hand on his forearm, "It's not just about the mind blowing, incredible, fantastic sex. Is it?"

He gave her the same smile that tried to be reassuring, but was a little sad. They'd had this conversation many times before, "Chere, yo' know it's not."

"Ah know." She just couldn't help but ask.

He leaned over to pull up the edge of his dress shirt, dragging it up past her thigh. Directly to the left of her hipbone, he could see the dark ink tattooed there. About an inch and a half high, stood a very prominent letter R. "Yo' wouldn't have done dat if it was."

She smiled, ridiculously happy about her and Remy's little secret. She'd done it well over a year a half ago, but it still excited her every time she thought about it.

As Remy had leaned over, the sheet on his lap slid dangerously low, now barely concealing anything. Tattooed inside of his hipbone, was a black letter A.

His large hand settled on her thigh, his thumb absently running back and fourth over her tattoo. He smirked, "What'd yo' tell dat boyfriend o' yours again? What's it mean?"

She laughed and her response was sarcastic, "It's an R for Rogue, of course; so Ah never forget where Ah came from."

He snorted, "More like yo' will never forget who made yo' come."

"Remy!" She scolded as she swatted his chest, "That's vulgar."

He grinned, clearly not the slightest bit apologetic.

"And what about yah, big shot?" She arched an eyebrow at him, "What do yah say about yours?"

He glanced down at the letter proudly displayed on his skin, "De girls dat ask? I tell dem de truth."

"Hm," She looked unconvinced, "And what's that?"

His thumb was still brushing back and fourth on her hip, "Dat it's for de girl dat's gonna break my heart."

"Remy," she frowned at him, "Ah wish yah wouldn't say that."

"I know," He looked sort of somber, "But it's like yo' keep sayin' - dat tings would never work out between us."

She was still frowning, "Yah know they wouldn't."

"It would be... Wat'd yo' call it?" He looked pensive, searching for the word.

Her brow arched, "Career suicide."

"Oui," There was a small, sorry nod, "Career suicide. Super heroes can't be runnin' around wit scum for hire."

"Remy," her frowned deepened, unhappy with his assessment, "We're just from two different worlds, yah know that. It would never work."

His head dropped down and he wished that he hadn't wasted that cigarette, "Mebbe dat would've been a problem befo', but we're adults now. Yo' are 25 an' I'm almost 30. Isn't dat old enough to make our own decisions?"

Not wanting to rehash the same discussion they'd had umpteen times before, she tried her best to change the subject. "Speaking of that, birthday boy," She walked two fingers seductively up his chest, between those chiseled pectoral muscles, "Yah should see what Ah got planned for two weeks from now."

The look on her face told him he didn't know how he'd be able to wait the two weeks until his birthday. Obviously, it momentarily distracted him and his eyes lit up hopefully, "Please let me yo' went out an' got dat sexy nurse costume we saw?"

She winked at him, her hand now flat on his chest, "Ah guess yah will just have tah wait and see."

He groaned, but accompanied it with a smile. "Chere, dis is gonna be a long deux weeks."

She was back to grinning, "It'll give yah something tah look forward tah."

His eyes were focused on hers, and began to stray to her body once again, "Rogue, yo' look sexy as hell right now."

She giggled under his heated gaze, his eyes giving away his thoughts, "Yah are just trying tah sweet talk me so we can do it again."

His face showed fake outrage, "Moi?! I would never."

"Yeah right," she snorted, "And next yah'll be telling me again how Ah'm the best sex yah've ever had."

He was grinning widely, "Yo' are de best sex I've ever had. No contest there."

She looked at him skeptically, "Of course. No one else has the ability tah absorb yah when yah climax, and that's what yah love."

He shrugged, "I was gonna say it was because o' your fantastic breasts."

She rolled her eyes, "Yah are incorrigible."

He was still grinning.

"And," Her eyes narrowed at him, "Ah'm still upset with yah for saying they were fake."

He held back the temptation to roll his eyes. He held up a finger, "Un - dat was trois years ago. Let it go." He held up a second finger, "An' deux - dat tiny waist? Yo' can see why I tought dat. It seems impossible."

She tried to shoot him a look, but he was too busy grinning, with his eyes glued directly to her chest.

"Imagine my surprise," he licked his lips, "When I found out dat dey were real."

She muttered, "Ah was late bloomer."

He laughed good-naturedly and leaned over to kiss her lips. He slowly trailed his lips down from hers to her neck.

"Ahhh," She sighed and felt her hands make it to the back of his neck, fingers sliding into the hair at the nape. "Yah are like a drug."

He pulled pack to look at her with a cocked eyebrow, "Are yo' saying dat I'm bad fo' yo' health?"

Her tongue darted out and trailed along her bottom lip, "Ah'm saying that yah are addictive. Ah can't get enough."

"Rogue," his voice was quiet, "Yo' know I love yo."

She smiled sincerely and leaned over to press a soft kiss against his lips, "Ah love yah too, Remy. Always."

He sighed as he started to slide his body on top of hers, "But yo' still can't stay de night?"

She broke eye contact, and looked away. She could feel the weight of his body pushing hers into the mattress, "Yah know Ah can't."

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